“What in the hell…?” were the first words that came to my lips when my mind started comprehending things again. Picking at the white robe I was wearing, I frowned contemplatively. White? I hadn’t worn white since I was…gods, probably since I was a baby. And even then, it had probably been off-white.

It was then that I noticed that my hands were once again smooth and unblemished. This gave me a start, and I raised it in front of my face, inspecting the smooth lines and attempting to find any sign of age that I had been so used to after all these years. It was gone. It was as if all the signs of my old age, my wrinkles, my gnarled hands, had suddenly disappeared, replaced by this smooth and youthful skin.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley,” a voice boomed out, and I abandoned my examination of my hand in favor of looking around, hoping to find the source of the echoing voice. I wasn’t quite sure if I should have been surprised to find myself in the middle of a white fog. It didn’t show any landmarks whatsoever, and even obscured the ground.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley,” the voice said louder, and again, I looked around, seeing nothing.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley!” the voice said, a touch of exasperation entering the voice and causing me to clap my hands to my ears at the sound. My hands were met with my thick red curls of my youth. Apparently, my hands weren’t the only thing that had reverted back to being in my late teens.

“Ginevra Mol—oh, bloody hell, it’s not as if you’re going to do anything else but peer around as if you’re a bleeding muggle…” The voice trailed off to mutter, making me squint in thought. It couldn’t be…

A tall, dark, imposing figure was coming towards me out of the mist. I took a hesitant step back, reaching for my wand, to find it completely missing. Oh, bugger, I thought to myself, before concentrating on the proper incantation to perform wandless magic. Just when I was about to cast my infamous Bat Bogey Hex (still effective after all these years!), the figure stepped into view, instantly making me lose my focus.

“Draco Malfoy?” I demanded sharply, my head spinning and attempting to pin what was happening down.

“The one and only,” he declared smugly, holding his arms wide with a smirk on his lips. I was a little put out to find that his robes were the customary black rather than snowball white.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, before shaking my head, holding up a hand. “Don’t answer that. Where the fuck is here?” He tsked softly.

“Language, Weasley. Apparently fifty-odd years of living with Potter hasn’t changed your lovely tendency to spout off the most vile words.” I felt a flush coming to my face in anger at his words. I hadn’t been this riled up since…hell, ages!

“So, what is this?” I asked instead of cursing him, ignoring his comment. He glanced around, unimpressed.

“It’s your version of Heaven, I guess. Can’t say that I expected much from a Weasley, but I have to admit that this is pretty bland.” I blinked.

“Heaven?” I repeated. He shook his head in chastisement.

“Yes, Heaven. Paradise, the Great Beyond, Valhalla, the Elysium Fields—take your pick. Although this doesn’t exactly look too much like fields…” he trailed off.

“So I’m dead?” I asked. I was still trying to wrap my mind around that. Dead? No more Harry? No more James, Albus, or Lily?

…although I had to say, not dealing with Albus’ grandchildren was going to be a relief.

“No, you’re still alive, and you’ve somehow slipped into Heaven early,” he told me, sarcastically. I sniffed at him.

“What kind of Heaven allows Draco Malfoy into it?” I sneered at him. I hadn’t seen him in a long while. Probably the last I had heard of him was when he had died a few years ago, and Scorpius Malfoy had inherited all his estates. I wasn’t quite sure whatever had happened to his wife, though.

“Evidently, your kind,” he sneered right back. He then sighed dramatically. “Anyway, we might as well get on with it. You’ve been given a choice.” I rolled my eyes at the faux melodrama in his voice.

“Oh, and as if that’s not stereotypical, I’m not sure what is,” I drawled sarcastically. I then peered around in the fog.

“Where’s all the angels?” A horrified look crossed my face. “Oh, good gods above, you’re not an angel, are you?” He scoffed.

“Please, Weasley, when did you start believing in those winged muggle beasts?” I felt another flush creep up my face. Right after I married Harry, I replied to myself.

“Never mind that. I’ve got a choice? Oh, let me guess: it’s a choice between reincarnation or staying in Heaven forever. In that case, I choose reincarnation. This place makes my accountant’s office look interesting.” He rolled his eyes.

“No, not that kind of choice, although it is bit similar.” He paused, trying to pick out his words. I couldn’t help but wonder what I had been thinking when I was younger. Sure, Harry was nice (after all, I did marry him), but Malfoy was beyond fine. If only I hadn’t been quite so prejudiced in my youth…I mourned the loss of at least a good shag. Nowadays, I was lucky to get a peck on my withered cheek.

With a sly glance at my young hands, I realized that it was now physically possible for me to do whatever I wanted. Maybe Malfoy would be willing to let me give him a go before I had to go on or whatever…

I was interrupted out of my dirty thoughts by the man himself.

“Apparently, the higher ups have this system. I wasn’t aware of it until I died, and I’ve been stuck here for quite a while now, waiting for you to show up.” He shot me a glare, as if it had been my fault for not kicking the bucket sooner. “Anyway, most of the goddesses were disappointed in the mortal’s lack of ability to find their soul mates. Which is reasonable, considering there’s six and a half billion people out there.” I snorted to myself, causing him to shoot me a withering glare before continuing.

“They figured that if a mortal had gone through their life and encountered their soul mate, yet didn’t act upon their urges and somehow ended up without them, they could be given a chance. They would be transported back in time—to an alternate reality, of course, or at least that’s what I understand—and be given a chance to act on their urges.”

“So, essentially, you’re saying that since Harry wasn’t my soul mate, and one of the males—“

“Or females,” he interrupted. I shuddered. Although I had no problem with other people living that way, I was most definitely heterosexual.

“Or females,” I conceded, a bit reluctantly, “that I encountered in my lifetime was, then I’m to be given the chance to go back and rectify my mistakes and somehow end up with them, wildly shagging until the sun exploded?” He quirked an eyebrow at that sentence, a smirk crossing over his flawless features.

“Essentially,” he agreed. “There’s another thing. To prevent people from going through their lives and forgetting about this whole afterlife thing, putting it down as a drug-induced dream or whatever, the gods are going to place you in that alternate reality in the exact place that you had the chance to make it with your soul mate.” I nodded thoughtfully.

“They’ve really eliminated all chances of error,” I said finally, when I could detect any places for mistakes. He smirked.

“Unless you’re a Weasley. Then there’s all sorts of error, since all you lot tend to do is fuck things up.” I tsked at him, mirroring his actions.

“Language, Malfoy. Apparently all that upper-crust breeding hasn’t done a thing about your inherent vulgarity.” A faint pink flush swept across his cheeks at the insult, and I felt a triumphant smirk sweep across mine.

“I can’t believe I waited this long just to be insulted,” he muttered to himself crossly, before shooting me a cold glare. I felt the smirk falter off my face, in favor of a scowl.

“So, I have to make this choice, don’t I?” I said, finally breaking the silence. He nodded stiffly, longish white blonde hair scraping jaggedly across his cheeks. Since when had Malfoy worn his hair like that when we were younger? I figured that since it was Heaven, they didn’t have expensive gel for him to dump on his head like toxic waste.

“Yes, relatively before the oceans boil and the earth falls from its rotation,” he replied dryly. I huffed, taking a few moments to actually think this through.

I had had a pretty good run with Harry, but I knew that if there was a possibility of there being someone else out there, I would take it. Especially if I was going to get to take that chance when I was young again. I may have wasted a lifetime with Harry with false happiness, but if I was being given a chance…

“Alright,” I said, taking a step closer to Malfoy and accentuating our height differences even more, “I’ll do it. Go to this alternate reality, or whatever, and have the chance to get together with my supposed soul mate.” He nodded, as if expecting this response.

“Okay, a few rules. Once you make your decision, you’re stuck. And if you fall for the wrong guy, well, then you’re fucked. You can’t let on to anybody that you’ve already lived for seventy years. Or that you know when people are going to die or the stocks are going to go up or down. Nothing of that business.” I nodded, knowing that this was probably procedure but only vaguely listening. It wasn’t as if I’d actually take advantage of this situation—well, more advantage than I already was. I mean, the gods could smite me or something if I tried to manipulate the system.

“Where do I go?” He shrugged.

“All you have to do is close your eyes, and wish for another chance. Cheesy, I know,” he admitted with a grimace. I grinned, before it fell off my face.

“So, when I go back, you’re going to be a complete arsehole, aren’t you?” I asked hesitantly. He scoffed.

“It’s not as if I’m being particularly nice to you right now,” he pointed out. I shook my head, dismissing the thought.

“No, you are being nice, considering how much of an utter prat you were back in Hogwarts.” He smirked in memory, before looking back at me and shrugging indifferently.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I could be taken to a different time, so it could be years before you see me and know that it’s the old and withered Draco. Even then, we’ll never be sure, so I think this is going to be the last interaction we have.”

It was kind of odd. He was my last tie to the life that I had known—I was going to another one, now, given another chance. I wouldn’t be able to talk about any of my kids; it’s going to be as if they didn’t exist. I felt a slight pang in my heart at this. Even if I hadn’t truly loved Harry completely, I had loved my kids.

I would just have to accept that they would be perfectly fine on their own. They were probably living in their dimension and having a good old time. Besides, they would have their own families to raise. One less decrepit parent would be a blessing rather than a curse.

“I’m ready,” I told Malfoy. He nodded, hesitating, before he closed his eyes. I did the same, the white fog abruptly being replaced by the inkiness of my eyelids.

“Weasley? I wish I hadn’t been so much of a wanker,” he told me, almost as an after thought.

“Yeah, I wish you hadn’t been either,” I admitted with a snort, my eyes still closed. “You probably aren’t half bad.”

“Good luck.”

“Same to you.”

And then, I was wishing, wishing for another chance to find my soul mate and my true love and live out the life that I had somehow missed, and then…

When I opened my eyes, it was to a dull murmur. I was in the Great Hall, and my head was on something soft and comfy, something that reminded me of home. I looked a little to the left and realized that it was my mother’s shoulder.

Tears crept into my eyes when I realized exactly when I had been transported back to. Of all the places in time, I had to be taken to the Last Battle. Oh, bloody fuck…

I squeezed my mum, before standing up and stepping over the bench.

“Ginny, dear, where are you going?” my mother asked in a tearstained voice, looking at me as if she didn’t want to let me go ever again.

“I just need to go do something,” I responded softly, not needing to fake the tears that were trickling out of my face. Fred had died this night, and I wasn’t too keen on seeing his body. Besides, with all this grief around here, I didn’t really want to be here at all.

Walking towards the entrance to the Great Hall was when I saw them. A lone threesome in dark robes, smudged with dirt and looking intensely out of place were the Malfoys, a glowing beacon of white blonde hair. They were being ignored by nearly everyone else, and looked so dreadfully uncomfortable that a wave of sympathy swept me.

What had happened to the Malfoys after the Battle? All three of them had gone to Azkaban immediately, under suspicious of conspiracy against the Ministry, before their name had been cleared. Recalling the simple, if disguised, kindness that Draco had showed me, I couldn’t help but what to assist them, too. I walked over to them, and when I stood across the table from them they finally looked up, as if shocked that someone had noticed them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,” I began softly, ignoring Draco for the moment. “I think that it would be wise to get you somewhere safe,” I said, indicating Narcissa, “before Mr. Malfoy goes and gives a full confession and apology to Minerva McGonagall.” They looked at me in surprise, as if I had just told them that I was Lord Voldemort. Reincarnated. Draco, though, he didn’t look that surprised.

“What do you mean, Weasley?” Lucius sneered, despite his bedraggled looking appearance.

“I mean that if you don’t do something fast, all three of you will be with a one way ticket to Azkaban for a few months.” Narcissa, if at all possible, paled even further beneath her tangled hair.

“Father, I think we should listen to her,” Draco said softly. His father cast a scrutinizing look at his son, taking a few long moments, before giving a short nod and standing.

“Come on, Cissa, let’s get out of here,” he said with distaste, helping his wife to navigate the bench. “Draco,” he called back when he realized that his son wasn’t immediately following him.

“Be there in a moment,” Draco called back, his piercing grey eyes on me. When his parents turned back around, he grabbed my arm and hurried me to a secluded corner, away from prying eyes.

“Why are you doing this, Weasley?” he hissed at me. “Want to get a piece of our fortune before it’s taken away by the Ministry?” I jerked my arm out of his grasp.

“No, I don’t, although there are people that deserve it much more than you do,” I whispered back harshly. We were leaning in close to each other—dangerously close, so close that I could smell the smoke mingling with his cologne—and if anyone stumbled upon us, they’d immediately assume that we were doing illicit activities, rather than exchanging insults.

“I don’t think that you’re in the position to determine who deserves what,” he snapped back. “Now why are you doing this?” I hesitated, before deciding to tell the truth.

“Something told me that you needed it. No one else was offering, so I figured that I might as well give it a try. I see how your family works when it comes to gratitude,” I sneered at him. He returned the favor, his shadowed eyes all too willing to show just how much resentment he felt at my helping him.

“Well then, thanks for nothing,” he said venomously back. “I’m quite surprised you made it past all the Death Eaters.” Enraged, I jabbed in the chest with my finger.

“I think you’d know just what I’m capable of doing, Mr. I’m-so-high-and-mighty-I-can’t-even-block-a-bloody-Bat-Bogey-Hex,” I sneered at him. “And if you think that I won’t do it again, you’re in for a—“

But I didn’t get a chance to finish what he’d get, because something warm had covered my mouth, and I realized a bit dazedly that it was his lips, smooth and demanding and just a bit dirty but still managing to stop me in my tracks.

When he hesitated, starting to pull back, it forced me into action, and I raised a hand to bury in his oh-so-soft hair and mash his face even more forcefully to mine, snogging him thoroughly. When I tentatively moved my tongue forward, I met his halfway there and we engaged in a battle of an entirely different kind, sparring with our tongues just as we had used words.

He tasted delicious. Of smoke and pine and an entirely different taste that I was sure was purely his. Our snogging tapered off towards more sensual, hands roaming when our kisses faded off until we were both panting, foreheads pressed together and staring deeply into each other eyes. I didn’t know how we had managed it, but at my back was the cool stone, and my right leg was wrapped around Draco’s hip.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since fifth year,” he confessed breathily. I chuckled, still in shock of what had just happened between us.

“Really?” was all I could think of to say.

“Really really,” he confirmed with a grin, kissing me on the tip of my overly freckled nose.

“I’ve been waiting to do that since a few minutes ago, when I realized how much of a prat you really weren’t,” I told him, reclaiming his lips with my own for another slow and languorous kiss.

When we separated again, it was almost as if he had grown a few years in the passing of a moment. His eyes looked infinitely more wiser, and I knew instantly that it was the Draco that I knew from my “Heaven” before me.

“Welcome back, soul mate,” he murmured to me, before nipping at my lips again.

I think I could get used to this soul mate business.